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“Where are you going to sleep if there’s no furniture?”
That’s a strange question. I give my phone a glance, wondering what’s up with him. But this isn’t the time to ask. It’s an in-person question.
“He has a blow-up mattress. We’re having a sleepover. Movies. Junk food. You sure you don’t want to drive down?”
“Not now. But, I guess, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He definitely doesn’t sound like himself.
“Everything alright?” I ask, not able to leave this ‘til morning. I’ve found different ways of asking the same question over the years, not wanting him to feel like I’m checking up on him. But it was obvious to us both that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Yeah. All good. See you in the morning.” His voice sounds glum. I wish I could hug him.
“Jonathan?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
My stomach doesn’t feel right when I hang up the phone.
“You can let go now,” Collin tells me from the floor, waiting to climb up the ladder I’m standing on to screw in the last bracket.
“Finally,” I say with an exaggerated sigh.
“Where’s our boy?” Collin asks, taking my spot.
“At my house. He thought we were coming down tomorrow. He didn’t realize it was a two-day move-in. I must’ve left something off the calendar.”
“Still not the best communicators? Have you tried a translator?” Collin teases with an annoying smirk.
“Shut it.”
“Well, you obviously still feel him, so help me decode that look.”
“I don’t know exactly. But he seems… off.” I consider what it could be about, but nothing obvious comes to mind. Maybe it’s returning to Hollis for the summer. He’s always on edge whenever we cross the town line.
“But wouldn’t he tell you what’s wrong?”
“Nope. I can just tell.” My heart can too. It’s tight. I rub at it.
“Of course you can.” Collin steps down from the stool and admires the heavy, dark blue curtains draping to the floor, their thin gold lines forming a delicate diamond pattern. “Your mother knows what she’s doing.”
“You think?” I mock. “Looks good.”
“The classiest things in this place.” He folds up the ladder and leans it against a wall lined with framed pictures of cars, engine parts that pass for art, and a few photos of the three of us.
Everything’s unpacked that can be. Put away in drawers, closets and cabinets. All that’s left are his clothes that go into his dresser whenever the truck arrives tomorrow.
“Where are the mattresses? I’m so tired, I can barely stand.”
“Ses? As in plural?” Collin acts all innocent when he pulls out a single box from the store bag. “It’s a queen. You won’t even know I’m next to you.”
“You roll around like a hamster in one of those balls. I’m surprised you don’t wake up on the floor every morning.” Maybe I should sleep on the floor.
“Only some,” he corrects me, not at all serious. “It’ll be fine. Stop complaining. I’ll even let you be the big spoon.” He flashes a smile that makes it hard to be annoyed with him.
